


Stranded

by Destina



Series: Temptations [5]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Early Work, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-02
Updated: 1999-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two wet Jedi, lots of sun, and a coconut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranded

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 1999, in response to a story challenge by Beth A. on the M_A list. Posted to AO3 in November 2015.

"I don't believe this is happening," Obi-Wan moaned, attempting to wring out his sodden robes. "Miles from anywhere, between two continents, and our boat sinks." 

"And our comlink with it," Qui-Gon reminded him, as he stood dripping on the sand. 

Disgusted, Obi-Wan dropped the wet fabric of his robe and stood with his hands on his hips. At any other time, he might have been impressed with the natural beauty of his surroundings. The beach they'd washed up on was a pure white, so white it was blinding. The sound of waves rolling gently up onto the beach, painting the sand a dark brown as they receded, was all that broke the natural stillness. A thousand shades of blue and green rippled through the shallow waters nearest the beach, sparkling and shimmering. 

A pleasant, rather balmy sun shone down on them, causing their clothes to steam. Qui-Gon fixed his gaze on his bedraggled apprentice; the robes were stretching under the weight of the water, and were making Obi-Wan appear much like a tiny half-drowned Alderaanian swamp rat. A slow grin crossed his face and was not missed by Obi-Wan, who glared ferociously at him, only increasing the comparison to a predator in a puddle. 

Ignoring Obi-Wan's baleful look, Qui-Gon suggested, "Best strip out of those clothes and hang them up to dry; they're all we have until help comes." He began to do just that, without waiting to see if Obi-Wan obeyed. 

"Who knows when that will be," Obi-Wan muttered, yanking at his robe first, then his tunic, and slinging them around a tree branch which jutted out over the sand. The heavy fabric picked up momentum and flew around the branch like a boomerang, smacking him in the eye. He yelped his protest, and heard a strangled snort from behind him which might have been a laugh. His face darkened with irritation as he pulled off one boot, hopping in place in the sand, and emptied it of water before moving to the other boot. His hands slipped beneath the waistband of his leggings, and he pulled them down briskly, bending over to tug them off his feet. 

"Very hairy." 

"Excuse me, Master?" Startled, Obi-Wan lost his balance and pitched over onto the sand. He scooted around and turned to his nude Master, who was studying some sort of fuzzy brown fruit with a thoughtful expression on his face. 

"This fruit, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied innocently, pointing to the small hard object. "I wonder if it's edible." 

Obi-Wan's eyebrow arched. "Let me see it," he demanded, trying to keep his eyes from straying to his Master's growing erection. 

Qui-Gon tossed the little brown ball to him. The muscles of his Master's body contracted and moved sinuously as he threw it, and Obi-Wan was distracted, right up until the coconut cracked him in the head. 

"Ow!" he complained, rubbing the instant bump over his eye. 

"Are you injured, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's voice sounded faintly amused. 

"No," Obi-Wan said indignantly. His Master knelt beside him, solicitously examining the beginnings of a bruise on his Padawan's forehead. Those large hands touched his face, moved down until they rested on his shoulders. He caught his breath as Qui-Gon leaned closer, ever closer...and reached past him to pick up the fruit, using Obi-Wan to brace himself as he extended his arm. 

"It's too hard to open with bare hands," Qui-Gon observed, settling back beside Obi-Wan on the sand. "Perhaps with a saber." His lightsaber leaped into his outstretched fingers a moment later. He ignited the device and set it to lowest power, and carefully cut into the coconut. The husk gave way, drenching Qui-Gon with clear fluid which smelled...wonderful. 

Intoxicated, Obi-Wan watched the liquid trickling down the flat stomach, down across the nest of curls beneath, across the now rigid cock. "Let me get that," he breathed, and before Qui-Gon could protest, he descended between his Master's legs, tongue running down the inside of the thigh, tasting the sweet juice briefly before licking up the length of Qui-Gon's cock. He set to work slowly, moving at a leisurely pace as he tasted the base, swirling his way up and down, taking only the tip of his Master inside his mouth before moving away again. 

Qui-Gon lay back on the hot, scratchy sand and closed his eyes as Obi-Wan teased him, lapping at him with a tongue that seemed longer and more versatile than he remembered. Small grunts of pleasure floated out into the tropical air, growing closer together as Obi-Wan's fingers spread Qui-Gon's legs apart, exposing him. Qui-Gon dug his heels into the sand and reached up with one hand, guiding Obi-Wan's pace as his hips arched up, seeking ecstasy. A warm hand wrapped around him, stroking and applying pressure in all the areas that incredible mouth was neglecting. 

Obi-Wan looked up at his Master, drawn by the erotic sight of his Master's eyes on him, and watched his Master swallow hard as Obi-Wan sucked harder, dragging his Master into his complete control. Qui-Gon's eyes fluttered closed, and his head tilted back, as his free hand clutched at shifting sand beneath him. 

"We won't go hungry here," Obi-Wan said softly. The vibration of the words tickled Qui-Gon, and he smiled as pure bliss pressed at the edges of his control. Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon deeply into his throat, and allowed Qui-Gon to move beneath him, indulging the joy which was burning for release. A quick press of teeth to flesh; a gentle intrusion of a finger sweeping up against hidden delight, and Qui-Gon shouted, frozen in place as waves of intense rapture shivered through him. 

Obi-Wan's efficient tongue cleaned his Master thoroughly, then freed him from the wicked prison of his Padawan's mouth. He laid his head on his Master's stomach for a moment, grinning as he listened to Qui-Gon's ragged breathing slow. 

A sudden quick application of strength, and Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan pinned, surprising him and claiming him with lips that demanded he open beneath them. He surrendered to them, accepting the languid caress as his Master collected back the taste of himself. 

"It's about time we had a few days to ourselves," Qui-Gon observed, before getting to work on his Padawan's most pressing problem, and before coherent thought left him, Obi-Wan had to moan his complete and total agreement.


End file.
